


hide away until the day is through,

by sheriffbucky (HeliosHellion)



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, They Are Both Trans In This Fic, and thats all you need to know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 18:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21481204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeliosHellion/pseuds/sheriffbucky
Summary: Vaughn and Rhys have a lot to work out, and all they know is that they both love each other very much.
Relationships: Rhys/Vaughn (Borderlands)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	hide away until the day is through,

Rhys remains motionless, trying to blink away the sleep threatening to drag him down. He feels his heart, feels the way it’s racing, pounding, beating hard enough to hurt, and he feels the way his breath wavers and shakes like he just ran a mile-long run. It hurts, everything in him hurts, and he feels like screaming and crying and ripping his hair out, but he doesn’t. He remains motionless, staring through the window in his bedroom, gaze unfocused, the city skyline like glittering like stars. 

Vaughn and Rhys, they fought, of course they did, seven years of silence does that to a couple, and Rhys knows it’s his fault, so when Vaughn glared, begged him to tell him why, Rhys didn’t answer, because he didn’t have one. The entire fight happened in Rhys’s apartment, and Rhys watched Vaughn bawl on Rhys’s couch, eyes red and wet, lip quivering, and Rhys couldn’t speak, can’t speak. In his friend’s time of need, Rhys couldn’t be there, couldn’t be there for seven years, so, when Vaughn was sobbing, Rhys left him in the living room, disappearing past his bedroom door, and left the door cracked so slightly.

So, that’s where Rhys is now, remaining motionless, the storm in his head ravaging everything in its path, come on, come on, you monster, do something, go to him, go to him, but he can’t, he can’t go to Vaughn and it’s destroying him. He thinks that’s what he deserves, an empty vacant cavity where his heart should be. He thinks Vaughn’ll leave, like he should. His mechanical hand digs into the fabric of his sheets, threatening to rip the seams, and his nostrils flare with each forced breath, he’s shaking now, terrified of what the future will hold. He deserves this, he thinks, he really does.

His door creaks, the tiniest noise sounds like a death rattle in Rhys’s ears, his door creaks and a shadow obscures the bright yellow light casted on Rhys. Rhys knows who it is, knows Vaughn’s come to say his goodbyes, or demand more answers Rhys can’t give, Rhys shuts his eyes, squeezing them so tightly it aches, and he holds his breath. The faintest footsteps press themselves against the carpeted floor, step, step, step, so slow and careful, step, step, step. Rhys hears Vaughn sniffle, and it breaks his heart all over again.

Vaughn leaves his glasses on the nightstand, dirtied and cracked and ruined, and then he drags a harsh breath through his teeth, climbing into the tomb of Rhys’s bed, bedsheets blue like the oceans between them, the waves are crashing in both of their ears, deafening and horrible, and then Vaughn lays next to Rhys, folding into himself, a small little curled up ball, and then everything goes silent, the waves stop crashing, Rhys’s heart stops pounding, and Vaughn scoots closer, sniffling again. 

Rhys rips his gaze from the glittering city, and he spins around, hand finding itself onto Vaughn’s. 

It digs itself out of Rhys’s throat, it feels violent and painful, but his voice, his tone, it’s so gentle and soft.

“I’m sorry,” Is what he says, “I’m so sorry,” 

He can barely see Vaughn’s face, just the gleam in his eyes, and the silhouette of his body, shaking like a leaf. 

“I know,” Vaughn says, “I don’t want to be angry, Rhys,”

“You should be,” Rhys answers, and then he says the thing that’s been repeating over and over again in his head, “I deserve it,” 

“Maybe you do, but I don’t care,” Vaughn’s voice breaks, “I haven’t seen you in seven years, and I hate that, and I’m so, so confused, and sad, and, and,” He shudders, and a sob breaks through him, “I missed you, Rhys,” 

Rhys gives Vaughn’s hand a squeeze, like the squeeze he’d give Vaughn back when they were Vaughn and Rhys, Hyperion runaways, the kind of hand squeeze that’d be accompanied by a smile, he wants to go back to how they used to be. 

“I missed you too, Vaughn,” 

Vaughn makes an ugly sniffling sound, and he shuffles closer. He hides his mouth in the collar of his tattered cape, voice muffled.

“I don’t want to fight, Rhys,” Vaughn sobs, lungs stinging like they’re about to collapse, “I just, I need,” 

His voice dies off, and he shuffles closer, and closer, and then his forehead is against Rhys’s chest, against the drumming of Rhys’s heart, and Rhys doesn’t stop him as he wraps his scarred and bloodied arms around him and squeezes. Rhys doesn’t stop him as he inhales deeply, sobbing into the pristine white of his dress shirt, even though the tear stains in them will be worse than any blood stain. Rhys is stunned, frozen, but only for a second. He shuts his eyes again, and then he’s pulling, and pulling Vaughn closer, arms around his neck, and he shoves his face into Vaughn’s hair, ignoring the mud and blood and dirt and sand, and he cries, an ugly sound escaping his throat. 

The feeling in his chest is warmer, hotter, like the feeling he got when Vaughn first kissed him, his lips were soft, he always liked cherry chapstick, and he kissed him so sweetly, it’s that feeling. Rhys holds Vaughn closer to him, and then his hand is sliding to Vaughn’s cheek, thumb running across the crusted bloodied hand on Vaughn’s face, he moves Vaughn slightly, bringing his face upwards so he can look at him. He leans and presses his lips against Vaughn’s forehead, and he can feel Vaughn’s breath hitch.

“Vaughn,” He tries to say, and Vaughn’s eyes are on him, wide and red, and then Rhys says, “Vaughn, I, I love you,” 

Vaughn stares, eyes going wider. Rhys’s eyes shut, and then he thinks he’s destroyed everything all over again. Seven years, and then he’s telling him he still loves him.

He expects so much, Vaughn to hit him, leave him, but he doesn’t expect Vaughn’s hand on his face.

“Rhys,” Vaughn says, like everything he could ever hope for was achieved. He smiles, just for a moment, and the sight is burned into Rhys’s mind forever, “Oh, god, Rhys,” 

Vaughn’s hand slinks to the back of Rhys’s neck, and then he’s kissing him, so gentle, his lips are much more chapped now, and Rhys thinks that’s okay. Rhys melts into the kiss, fingers digging into the fabric of Vaughn’s cape, he’s clinging onto him, and he sighs against Vaughn, kissing him like two lovers that haven’t seen each other in years, finally sharing a sweet moment alone, his heart threatens to burst. 

Rhys is in love with Vaughn, and Vaughn is in love with Rhys, and nothing can ever change that, not even the seven years apart. 

Rhys turns Vaughn onto his back, and then he pulls away just to say, “I love you,” Again, “I love you,” 

Rhys’s lips are against the corner of Vaughn’s lip, and then they’re a little bit lower, against Vaughn’s jawline. Vaughn sucks in a breath, fingers tangling in the sheets below.

“Is this okay?” Rhys pauses, “Can we do this?”

“Yes, Rhys,” Vaughn exhales, he says it like it’s the most important thing in the world, “Please,” 

Rhys shudders and then his lips are against Vaughn’s neck, he doesn’t mind the blood, but he does avoid it, mouth against the part of his neck free from the splatters, teeth drag across the skin, and Vaughn shakes, adjusting his neck just so he can present more to Rhys, and Rhys thanks him. Vaughn’s hands go to tangle in Rhys’s hair. 

“Rhys, I,” Vaughn says, and then he doesn’t finish the rest.

“I got you, Vaughn,” Rhys whispers, pressing a kiss on Vaughn’s collarbone, “I promise you, I’ll fix us, I promise,” 

“I know, I know you will, Rhys,” Vaughn replies, “I need you,” 

Rhys makes a strange sound in his throat, something like a whine, and then he’s dragging down Vaughn’s body, his mechanical hand against Vaughn’s ribcage. He presses his lips between Vaughn’s chest, the scars barely existing now, and then he keeps going. His human hand goes to press against Vaughn’s pec, the one without the massive streak of blood, and his thumb gently runs against the skin. Vaughn whines, and he shifts around, holding himself up with one arm behind him. He’s breathing a little bit heavier once Rhys’s mouth presses against his navel. Rhys’s hands wrap around Vaughn’s hips, gentle and kind. Every tiny breath from Vaughn’s lips sends Rhys’s heart pounding. He needs this, they both need this. Everything else can wait. 

He pauses and rests his forehead against Vaughn’s stomach. He sighs.

“Rhys?” Vaughn asks.

“Do you remember our first time?” Rhys replies, and then he smiles. 

Vaughn’s head goes to rest against the pillows, and he stares up at the ceiling, “How could I forget that,”

“Neither of us knew what we were doing,” Rhys chuckles, throat still wet from the crying, “We were both so nervous, we just ended up kissing a lot,” 

Vaughn laughs, “Not really a first time, I think, we didn’t even get your boxers off,” 

“Hey, it was a great first attempt,” Rhys replies, “And we got the hang of it, uh, eventually,” 

“Yeah,” Vaughn says, “I guess we did,” 

For a moment, neither of them do anything. 

“I’ll shut up now,” Rhys says, “I love you, by the way,” 

Vaughn smiles.

“I love you, too,” 

So, Rhys’s fingers go to hook onto the hem of Vaughn’s underwear, the kind Rhys could identify instantly, but he doesn’t say anything. He presses a kiss against Vaughn’s pubic bone, and then he’s pulling his briefs down his legs. Vaughn works with him to get the fabric off his legs and across the room. Vaughn sucks in a breath, and Rhys pushes his legs further apart. 

“We’re finally doing this,” Rhys says, and for a moment, Vaughn is confused, “At-las-tuh,” 

Vaughn’s eyes squeeze shut, and then he’s laughing, really laughing, all hearty and loud. Rhys smiles, and he’s in love all over again. Only Vaughn would laugh at a joke like that. Vaughn opens his eyes again, and then he’s looking at Rhys all lovingly and sweet, thinking that Rhys is the only man he knows that would make a joke like that at a situation like this. For some reason, he feels like crying again, but for a much different reason. 

When his laughing fades, that’s when Rhys finally leans in, nose brushing against the hair Vaughn refuses to shave, Rhys doesn’t mind, and then he’s dragging his tongue across the skin.

Instantly, Vaughn arches his back, and he lets out a wheeze. His hand tangles into Rhys’s hair again, and he shudders, too long, it’s been too long. 

“Keep, keep going,” Vaughn urges Rhys to continue, so Rhys does. 

Rhys’s hands remain on the inside of Vaughn’s thighs, keeping them apart, while Vaughn’s gently rocking himself against Rhys’s face. 

“Ah,” Vaughn gasps, mouth going agape once Rhys’s tongue starts to circle his clit, Rhys keeps his eyes on Vaughn’s face, watching each subtle reaction, “Rhys,” 

That voice, the whisper of his name, that feeling settles right into Rhys’s gut and isn’t leaving anytime soon. Neither of them have done anything like this for seven years, and that’s really starting to hit Rhys now. 

Vaughn runs his hand through Rhys’s hair, and Rhys exhales through his nose, pushing his head up so slightly to lean into Vaughn’s touch. He kisses Vaughn’s clit one last time, and then he’s dragging his tongue from bottom to top again, savoring the tiniest gasp Vaughn gives him. He remembers way back when, when he was all enthusiasm and no skill, but that was fine by Vaughn, Rhys would go fast, like he was trying to prove something, but now, Rhys is taking his sweet time, seconds that feel like minutes and minutes that feel like hours, that’s what this feels like, and Vaughn wouldn’t want it any other way. Rhys drags his hands underneath Vaughn’s thighs, and Vaughn gets the memo, adjusting to rest his legs on Rhys’s shoulders, muscles tensing and shaking from everything Rhys is doing to him. 

“Rhys,” Vaughn says his name again and pushes himself against Rhys, hand balling up into a fist. Rhys drags a long whine out of Vaughn, and then Vaughn’s squeezing his eyes shut, biting his bottom lip gently. 

When Vaughn opens his eyes, he meets Rhys’s gaze, and for a second, Rhys pauses. That look, that exact look Vaughn’s giving him, it takes him back, and for a moment, Vaughn hasn’t changed a bit, his hair untangled and clean and well-kempt, eyes hiding behind those thick lenses, looking so nervous yet so adventurous at the same time. It steals Rhys’s breath away, and then Rhys blinks, and keeps looking up at Vaughn with such adoration. Even when the blood-covered, dusty look of the present-day Vaughn returns, Rhys can still see the look in his face that is still so unmistakably Vaughn. 

Rhys gets a little bit rougher, a little bit faster, lapping at Vaughn’s folds, he shuts his eyes and furrows his brow, and Vaughn’s fist grows a little bit tighter, the knot in his stomach pulling and pulling, threatening to snap. “Oh, god,” Vaughn whines, thrusting up into Rhys’s mouth, “Rhys,” 

Vaughn hides his mouth in the collar of his cape, trying his hardest to muffle his voice, a practice he learned from years surrounded by a hundred bandits that listened for his call, he’d hide himself in the darkest part of their hideout and hide his voice by biting down into the fabric, and nobody suspected a thing.

But, that was then, and this is now.

Rhys pulls away, and Vaughn gives him a wild-eyed look, watching as Rhys wets his fingers with his mouth, and then Rhys is leaning back in, fingers pressing against Vaughn, and it sends him into a keening mess, high-pitched and breathy. 

His mouth remains on Vaughn’s clit, while his fingers pump slowly in and out, curling and uncurling, Vaughn tenses around him, and then untenses, his chest rising and falling with each quick breath, each tiny moan.

Rhys opens his eyes, and so does Vaughn, and their gazes meet again, and Vaughn swears Rhys’s eye is a little bit brighter.

“Rhys, I, I,” Vaughn stutters, “I’m gonna,” 

Rhys doesn’t let Vaughn finish that thought, he sucks a little bit harder and pushes his fingers in a little bit deeper, and then Vaughn’s arching his back, head nearly thudding against the headboard, his body tenses, thighs on each side of Rhys’s head, his hand still in Rhys’s hair as he grinds up into Rhys. The knot snaps, and Vaughn comes with a breathless wheeze, whispering Rhys’s name until it stops sounding like a name. Rhys pulls his fingers away, and then he’s back to gently lapping at Vaughn, guiding him through the aftermath, Vaughn shivers, and lets out a long breath. 

Vaughn’s thighs ease their hold on Rhys, and Vaughn’s hand drops from Rhys’s hair to go to his shoulder. He holds himself up with his other arm, and weakly pulls for Rhys to come to him. 

“Rhys,” He says, gentle and kind, “Come here,” 

Rhys climbs onto Vaughn, and then Vaughn’s wrapping his arms around Rhys’s neck, pressing his lips against Rhys in a chaste, long kiss. He pulls Rhys to the side, bringing Rhys from on top of him to next to him. Rhys sighs into the kiss, and his leg goes to wrap around Vaughn’s waist. He grinds his hips into Vaughn’s, and he lets out a whine, pulling away from Vaughn to shove his face into his neck. Vaughn’s hands drift down, roughly taking Rhys’s hips into his grasp, and he thrusts against Rhys, who turns into a babbling mess. 

“Shit, Vaughn, I missed this, you have no idea how much I dreamed about this, us, I’m sorry,”

Vaughn doesn’t answer, but he does unbutton Rhys’s shirt faster than he’s ever unbuttoned something in his life. He nearly pops a few buttons completely off in his rush, but he thankfully makes it through without damage to Rhys’s nice shirt. Rhys helps him slide the shirt off Rhys’s shoulders, and then Vaughn’s hands are on Rhys. His palms are rough, calluses and scars like sandpaper. He looks down at Rhys’s chest, thumbs ghosting over the thin white lines, and he says, “That’s new,” 

“Yeah,” Rhys says, chuckling, “Well, new for you,” 

Vaughn presses a kiss to Rhys’s collarbone, saying, “It’s a good look on you,” 

Rhys remembers binding his chest, and he remembers trying to survive with wearing that across Pandora. 

“Thanks,” Rhys sighs, and he leans into Vaughn’s touch. 

Vaughn notes all the differences in Rhys’s body, like he’s studying for a test, he’s not as gangly looking, he’s hairier, and he’s absolutely gorgeous in Vaughn’s eyes. Rhys was always the good looking one. 

“Yeah,” Rhys’s voice drifts quieter, like he’s embarrassed, “Sorry, I’m, uh, not how I used to look.”

“Rhys,” Vaughn says, “Shut up,” There’s no hostility in his voice, but he says it in a way that’ll make Rhys listen, “Neither of us look the same,”

He flexes an arm to prove his point, and Rhys nods, “Okay,” He says in a defeated kind of way, voice unusually high. Vaughn always had that impact on him. 

Vaughn’s lips ghost over the pattern on his chest, just as blue as he remembers, and he kisses it, like he’s saying hello to an old friend. 

“Hey,” Rhys mumbles, “I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” 

Vaughn ducks his head, and his hand drifts lower, fingertips dipping below Rhys’s waistband, saying, “You already did, and now it’s your turn,”

Rhys nearly laughs, Vaughn sounds so matter-of-factly, but any response is cut short once Vaughn cups his through his pants. He exhales, nostrils flaring, and then he’s hiding his face in Vaughn’s shoulder again. 

“I’ve got you,” Vaughn says, kissing the top of Rhys’s head, “I’ve got you,” 

The two of them readjust, with Rhys’s back to Vaughn’s chest. Vaughn has one arm around Rhys’s chest, while the other hand is teasing his front. Rhys reaches behind to tangle a hand in Vaughn’s unkempt curls, and he turns his head, bringing Vaughn into a sloppy and uncoordinated kiss. Vaughn finally pushes a hand past Rhys’s waistband, and he runs two fingers along Rhys’s front. Rhys spreads his legs out, and he lets out a long sigh, relaxing his head against Vaughn’s shoulder. Vaughn’s thumb grinds into Rhys’s clit, and Rhys shuts his eyes, rocking his hips gently into Vaughn’s palm. He returns to lazily kissing Vaughn, a concentrated look on his face. He knows he isn’t going to last long, Vaughn’s much more coordinated than Rhys remembers, that fumbling nervous wreck replaced with a certain amount of confidence, but he can still feel an amount of hesitation in the way Vaughn’s moving his hand, like he’s saying, ‘ _ Is this okay?’ _ Over and over again. Rhys runs a hand up and down Vaughn’s arm, unashamedly feeling up his bicep like some sort of fawning fangirl. His hand drifts to hold gently onto Vaughn’s wrist, tensing himself around Vaughn’s calloused fingers. 

“Oh, god, Vaughn,” Rhys says it like a sob, “Vaughn,” 

Vaughn presses his lips against Rhys’s shoulder, and his fingers continue curling and uncurling, while he twists his wrist to grind the palm of his hand against Rhys’s clit. Rhys graduates from rocking his hips to full on bucking, shuddering and shaking as he practically fucks himself on Vaughn’s fingers. It sends him into a stuttering mess, whining and whining. 

“Vaughn, I’m so close,” Rhys cries, “I’m, I, ah,”

The arm around Rhys’s chest tightens, and then his fingers curl right up against the perfect spot, and then Rhys is squeezing his eyes shut, he swears he sees colors in the corners of his eyelids, and then he’s coming, letting out a string of jumbled nonsense Vaughn is sure is gibberish. There is one part Vaughn makes out, though, coming out fast like a singular word, Rhys says, “I love you, I love you,” 

It feels like hours, but it’s only a few moments when Rhys feels like a functional human again. Vaughn is still palming him, and then he withdraws his hand, wiping his fingers against Rhys’s bedsheets. Rhys adjusts himself so he can kiss Vaughn properly, grabbing the collar of his cape and pressing his face against Vaughn’s. 

He pulls away, and they share a moment of silence, just Rhys’s panting to fill the space. Rhys rests his head on Vaughn’s shoulder, and Vaughn rests on Rhys, pressing his lips against Rhys’s temple. 

“Rhys, you’re,” Vaughn says, and then he says, “I love you,” 

Rhys isn’t letting go, he isn’t, not ever again. He squeezes his eyes shut and says, “I love you,”

So, they settle back into Rhys’s bed, with Rhys’s hand on Vaughn’s cheek. Outside the window, the day starts for the moment, allowing a brilliant light to shine on Vaughn’s face. 

He’s beautiful, Rhys thinks, stunning, so he kisses Vaughn, and then again, and again. 

“I’ll make you take a shower when we wake up,” Rhys says, “Not now, but soon,”

Right now, Rhys needs to hold him. 

So, Rhys and Vaughn shift around, and then Vaughn’s head is on Rhys’s shoulder, breathing softly. Rhys gently pets Vaughn’s head, whispering nothings into his hair. Everything else can wait, the two of them both think. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> kill me


End file.
